


Zuko takes a Vacation

by Themanofmanyhats



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Canon Compliant, Zuko's a cinnamon roll/grumpy old man, aka Zuko goes backpacking, aka Zuko goes on tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themanofmanyhats/pseuds/Themanofmanyhats
Summary: Zuko is 84 when he finally retires as Firelord. His hair’s gone white and his joints hurt, but he’s spent 67 years of his life on the throne and he’s going to take a vacation if it kills him.





	1. Old House

**Author's Note:**

> *the sound of a single party popper going off* Guess who turned 18 today? That's right, this nerd! As always, I try to post something somewhat special on my birthday, and this year it's this! What is this you ask? Pretty much just old man Zuko backpacking around the world. Six chapters, pretty chill. I started writing this in January so... it's been a hot minute. I'm not completely sure what I was going for. But I hope you stick around till the last chapter - that one, uh... puts everything in perspective.
> 
> Till next week, happy reading!

"I still don't fully understand why you're doing this," Izumi muttered.

Her father, Lord Zuko, retired Firelord and hero of the Hundred Year War, was lugging a sack into his pet dragon's saddle bag, about to ride off on his long planned 'vacation'.

"Keep that crown on your head for a few decades and you'll understand," he answered.

"But so soon. It's only been three months since my coronation. I could still use your help here."

"From what I've seen already, I know you'll do fine," Zuko turned back and planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "Besides, if anything goes wrong, you know where you can find me. We've gone over the plans at least a dozen times."

"Yes," Izumi answered, "And you're just great at following plans, aren't you?"

"Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice, dear?"

She smiled, though worry returned as her father readied the final straps of Druk's saddle. "I really expected you to spend your retirement lying around on Ember Island. This trip seems… a little extra if I'm honest."

"I  _am_  going to Ember Island, and this isn't even a real retirement."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Ambassador of Peace. I forgot."

"Despite your poor memory, Firelord, you are right. It is quite the journey."

Creases cropped up on her forehead, just as they did when Zuko had first announced the trip to her. "Three weeks, maybe more. All the major cities. Days on the open road. Alone."

"I've been through worse, dear," he said, "I need this more than you think I do. I'll be back before you know it. Take care."

"I'm the one who should be saying that to you."

He wrapped Izumi in one last embrace before climbing onto the dragon's saddle. A last goodbye, and Druk launched into the air, beginning day one of a long, long journey.

* * *

It was a short trip to their first stop. Druk slipped from above the clouds and landed on the beach with a soft  _thud,_  where Ember Island welcomed them with its salty breeze and rowdy sea ravens. Tucked away between a grove of unkempt palms was a lone beach house. It used to be the only building on that stretch of beach, but the city was slowly creeping closer, and was now easily within earshot. He supposed it was a good thing. He wouldn't have to walk too far to get to the broadwalk.

He dismounted, saddle burned and stiff necked. It was probably bad news that his bones were already this tired after barely a day, but he didn't exactly have control over his body at this age. He'd just have to rub some ointment on it and hope he would adjust.

"You go curl up in the courtyard, old boy." He patted the dragon's neck, and Druk slithered up the path to the beach house. It would be awhile before Zuko made his way towards it as well.

He fished out a key from his pocket and opened the door. The scent of wood that had been left to fester in salty winds stuffed his nose. The darkness hurt his eyes, but Zuko knew there wasn't much to see anyway.

He took a step inside, and already something caught his foot. Zuko looked down, spotting a crisp white envelope sealed with red wax that must've been slipped under the doorway. It was a letter from his daughter. From the date inscribed on the top, he could see that she'd sent it a few days ahead of time. Zuko chuckled. It was just like his daughter to get things right in order long before they needed to be. It read:

_Dear father,_

_I hope you're doing well. I know you don't like having this place disturbed, but I sent a few people ahead to clean up the main rooms a bit. I didn't want you sleeping on a dusty mattress on your first night away. I told them to keep everything else in place._

_Please, take care. Eat well. Sleep early. Stay close to Druk; he'll have to be the one looking out for you while I can't. Write to me when you reach Gaoling_

_Love,  
Izumi_

He smiled. Her words were short and forward; it reminded him of her mother. He laid the letter gingerly on the coffee table, whose surface must have been cleaned of dust just a few days ago, as Izumi had suggested in her letter.

Despite the dusting, the home still had a musty, stale aura to it, the feeling of a house that hadn't seen a visitor in years. It must've been what? A decade or two since he'd been there? A mere fraction of his almost 90 years of life, but a long stretch by any means.

The furniture was luxurious - the house belong to royalty after all - but sparse. There was little in terms of decor, with vases missing flowers and hooks nailed into the walls where pictures once hung. That was just the front room, but he knew most of the house was more of the same - too many rooms with not much fill them with.

He hadn't come here often. Zuko had vacationed notoriously little throughout his years, and when he did take a break he spent it visiting friends or showing Izumi and his grandchildren the world. His visits to Ember Island had been few, far inbetween, and short.

He'd always wanted this place to feel like home again - like those early, early days when he'd visited with his family as a child - and he'd come close to that when he and his friends had hid there before the comet, but but it never truly happened. There was just never the time or reason. No one ever had the same connection with this place that he had - it was always just another house to them. And as time went on, the house just made him feel wistful, keening for a time and for people that had long passed.

Zuko tried to brush the thoughts away. Staying in the beach house was doing nothing to up his mood, and Zuko had promised not to tangle himself in angsty thoughts on this vacation. Or at least, not this soon.

Zuko threw open the windows and took in a lungful of ocean air. This was his vacation, he told himself once more. His break, his time to walk unburdened after 67 years on the throne, without obligations, without a thought of what duties tomorrow would bring - and by the spirits, he was going to enjoy himself.

* * *

Zuko sat inside a beachside cafe, hiding away from the midday sun. Light poured through the windows, a breeze tinted with the scent of spoiled fish waltzed in from the open doorways, and in the background, soft jazz gurgled from a hidden jukebox. Zuko was stuffing his face in a newspaper, trying to phase it all out.

A waiter strutted up to him, notepad in hand. "What'll it be?"

"A cup of jasmine tea, please," Zuko muttered.

He could hear the order being scribbled on her notepad. For a few moments, the waiter stood still, and Zuko knew she was squinting in his direction, trying to peek behind the newspaper.

"I said a cup of jasmine, please." He straightened the back of his newspaper again and coughed into his hand. The waiter waited for another second, but eventually walked back to the counter.

A sigh escaped his throat. He was in no mood to be recognized on his first day out of the palace.

It had been alright so far. From staring at the Ember Times for a good ten minutes, he could confirm that there were no headlines about a dragon - and by correlation, a certain ex-Firelord - making landfall last night. He'd left the house dressed as inconspicuous as possible to try and keep it that way.

He'd let his hair down from its usually topknot, trimmed his beard a bit shorter and rougher, and wore simple red traveling clothes that could honestly use a wash. He'd also bought a very touristy straw hat, flower print and all, because his skin had been itching up under the sun. On the brightside, it did a decent job of covering his scar. On the downside, it looked absolutely horrendous. All in all, he looked like the generic retiree that had saved up their money to spend their golden years at Ember Island, and was sorely regretting it.

A steaming cup of tea was placed on his table. Zuko gave his thanks and took a sip. It wasn't bad, but there was a splash of Ember Island's classic spice that made him wrinkle his nose. He left the half-full cup still steaming on the table.

Another sigh escaped his throat. Lounging in cafes wasn't as cracked up as the dramas had made it out to be. He slipped a gold coin on the table and stood to leave.

Outside, the broadwalk was humming with life. Teens dashed by flaunting bright colors and high spirits, families picked their way through arcades to stands to roadside shows, and storekeepers called out to anyone who passed by. The beach was speckled with color and noise, which glared white hot to Zuko's weakened senses. He doubted wading through the broadwalk crowds or taking a dip in the ocean would be pleasant, so Zuko settled on finding somewhere to rest. He walked along the shore until he found a spot that wasn't taken - a seaside bench a few feet away from where a flock of sea-ravens feasted on a spilled bag of fire-flakes. It wasn't like Zuko had any better company.

Zuko squinted at the red blot of a sun, leaning in his seat with a sigh. The romanticism of a beachside life had really sloped downward, he found. Without an able body to enjoy it, all the beach meant was sand, sun, mosquito swarms and loud tourists. It shouldn't have been a surprise. He was 84 years old for crying out loud - it was time to accept that he wouldn't be getting much more out of life at this point.

_So why'd you even go?_ his sore body whined.  _You're tired, lonely, and nothing's going to change. Why'd you even bother starting this?_

The wind picked up, cool against his body, and Zuko leaned into it, letting it ease him.

_The days to come will be better_ , he assured himself.  _You'll see Gaoling and Ba Sing Se and Republic City. Things will pick up later._

A warning voice answered.  _Too many laters. You've been putting all your hopes into laters your entire life and look where it's gotten you._

Zuko sunk even lower in his seat.

That's where all the problems were, weren't they? The laters. If he hadn't waited for the laters, he might be walking the boardwalk with friends who all had a spring in their step - caroused the arcade with Toph and Sokka, watched a play with Katara and Aang, even just walk the beach with his wife. He'd saved that all for laters, but like fruit left too long on the vine, those laters all turned to nevers.

_Enough laters._ The wind spoke to him.  _What about the nows? You're not in Gaoling or Ba Sing Se or Republic City right now. You're in Ember Island._

The sun felt warmer on his skin, even though it was setting.  _I'm on Ember Island,_ he resolved. He was going to take a vacation, and he was going to like it.

It was time to stand up, brush himself off and wander through the broadwalk, taking in the art and music at his own pace. It was time to gaze up at the paper lanterns that hung like glowing, mystical fruit above the walkway. It was time to buy as many damn fire flakes as he wanted. It was time to stand in the crowd of a street show and watch as the bender sent a fiery dragon weaving in the air above their heads.

The crowd kept thickening even as the night had crawled higher and higher. Albeit, the darkness made the flames nothing short of enchanting, even to him, who'd dealt with fire long enough for it to have been as enrapturing as dirt under his shoes. It was as another wave of watchers had joined them - the night showing of  _The Boy in the Iceberg_  had apparently just ended - when there was a tug at the hem of his shirt.

A golden eyed child stared up at him. "You're Lord Zuko."

He said it as a simple fact. No question or afterthought in the way only a child could say. A part of him said that he should have been deflated at the fact that he had been found out, that what he knew would inevitably happen had happened. But he couldn't bring himself to worry. He'd had a good night, and that was enough, even if he hoped it could last a little longer

"I am," he answered, placing a hand on the child's shoulder. "Now let's not spoil the night."

By the grace of some spirit, no one seemed to hear them, and the kid didn't seem keen on shouting out his company to the world.

They turned back to the show, but the bender had already taken her bows and disappeared, leaving behind a dark stage. The square had descended into that state of murmurs that came after applause and the glare of the show had made the street seem hazy, when a high pitched screech split the sky. It was just before the first golden burst of light streaked through the dark that Zuko remembered that at the end of every week, Ember Island hosted its famed fireworks show.

The boy hung on his leg as the sky exploded in color. The light made white spots in his eyes, but above all the smoke and noise, Zuko found it quite beautiful.

* * *

The windows of the old house store out into the night like the eyes of a giant cat-owl. Dazed from the lights and worn from the walk, Zuko made his way up the path and in through the door.

He tread through the hallways with light feet, as if he were a child sneaking around after bedtime.

He opened the door to a small guest room, one of the rooms they'd used while hiding from Ozai before the comet. He took a short walk inside, rifled the drawers of desks and dressers, most of which were empty. Then he walked back into the hallway, shut of the lights, and left the room to rest again. It'd be left like that for oh, who knows, maybe another few decades.

Zuko kept exploring, ducking into rooms as if he'd expected the house to have changed in all this time. He'd had it cleaned up, fixed the one hallway he'd burned down and had the building wired up, but never cleared it out. Things had been shuffled around, touched up and wiped down, but the house for the most part was the same as it had been 70 years ago.

His family rarely came to visit, and even then, they never truly stuck their roots in and called it home. It was just another house, another vacation spot, they'd been to plenty others all around the world. So the house stayed unpersonalized, unrenovated. He'd always wanted to do something with it, turn it into somewhere he could call home, but that time never came. At some point, the place had turned stale. Perhaps it was when family vacations had begun to stop including him. Or perhaps it was when his friends had started to pass away.

The fact stood that the beach house hadn't been used for over two decades. Zuko kept it solely as a momento, like a high upkeep souvenir of a time long past. Once he passed, the sentimentality of this place would be gone. But he was 84, he was stubborn, and perhaps he deserved to be a little selfish.

The time to do the things he wanted was now. There was no guarantee of 'later' anymore. And the first thing he wanted to do was get this place out of limbo. Zuko scourged up a sheet of paper and wrote:

_Dear Izumi,_

_Be a dear and get the beach house cleaned up for me. I've decided where I'll be staying once I get back. Love and wishes till then. Try not to worry about me too much._


	2. Swamp Roots

 

They landed on the Earth Kingdom mainland at the crack of dawn, when the night still wrapped Druk in shadows. The lights of a city twinkled like bright stars on the horizon, but everywhere else around for miles was plains. Zuko kicked up dust as he dismounted the dragon and started on foot towards the city.

Druk grunted in offense. The dragon sallied in front of him, apparently peeved that Zuko was wasting his time walking instead of jumping on his back.

“Get off my case,” Zuko grumbled, “I can still walk fine.” 

Druk growled, planting his tail in front of Zuko’s path. 

He sighed, and brought a hand to the dragon’s snout. “Just until the village, alright old boy? I’ll buy an ostrich horse and ride from there.” 

Smoke trailed out of Druk’s nose. Zuko was fairly certain the dragon was going to pick him up in his mouth and carry him like a baby tigerdillo. Instead, the beast buried Zuko in his mane, growling softly and sadly. Zuko kissed the distraught dragon’s scales.

“You big baby,” Zuko murmured as they pulled apart. He gave the dragon’s mane one last brush. “I’ll be fine. Now get back up there. I don’t need you spoiling my vacation.”

Rasping sadly, Druk circled around him one more time, as if inspecting him for damages. One last nuzzle, and the dragon shot up into the sky like a giant red flare. The golden point of his tail vanished behind the clouds. 

“Such a worrier. Him and Izumi both.”

* * *

 

Life in the Earth Kingdom plains plodded along at a simple pace. He bought an ostrich-horse for what was probably a rip off, but Zuko didn’t mind. Money wasn’t something he worried about as he set off across the desert, Druk watching over him somewhere above the gathering rain clouds.

Having beasts of burden was a dwindling practice, but was common enough in the Earth Kingdom prairies. Most families couldn’t afford much else. All in all, it was nice to get away from the drone and buzz of city life, if only for a little while.

Rustic, dust swept villages spotted the plains, usually holding no more than 100 people, a single bar and a ramshackle motel. In most towns, Zuko gave his ostrich-horse a rest, played a game of Pai Sho on the porch of a diner, bought a bite to eat and tipped in gold coins before he left.

Sometimes, when daylight was running short, he’d knock on the door of the closest building around, usually a quaint farmhouse, where the residents never failed to show him hospitality. Once, he’d even stumbled across the campfire of a trope of wandering nomads, who then gave him a tour through a nearby mountain range, riddled with crystal caverns. They’d graced him with a singing of the ancient song, ‘Secret Tunnel’ a few, or a couple dozen, times.

Other times, when no house or campfire was in sight, Zuko set down on the bare sand. He’d light up a campfire, tether the ostrich-horse, lay down some blankets and watch the stars until sleep flickered them off. Some time while he slept, Druk would slither down from the sky, and Zuko would wake up with the dragon curled in a circle around them. Then, they’d be off again once the sun rose.

While his body whined at the constant travel, Zuko found his heart making itself at home on the dust trail. Memories of his younger days trailed alongside him. He passed the little harbour town he and Iroh had washed up on after the Siege of the North. He passed through many villages on the plains, perhaps one of them had been the town he’d taken refuge in when he’d been riding this trail alone. He made his way to Gaoling, where he’d once chased the Avatar’s trail.

The city had changed as most cities had changed - the addition of electrical lines, wider streets, the blinking of neon and the growing purr of engines. Other things had changed since he’d made visits here as Firelord, more subtle ones. The Beifong family house had become some other rich family’s home. The pictures of King Kuei that hung in most buildings had changed to that of his daughter, Queen Hou-Ting. She frowned haughtily from the corner of the room. 

To the Earth Kingdom, their Queen was a deity. Her pictures hung everywhere to remind her citizens of her everprescence, and that to speak out against her was treason. Firelords however… well, the media had too many pictures of him tripping on stairways for anyone to believe he was god incarnate. That grounded view likely passed on to Izumi, although that was one of the things he hadn’t regretted. The Fire Nation had had enough of rule by fear.

It was downcast when he left Gaoling. The rains started pouring an hour into his journey but it was still warm and his destination wasn’t far, so he kept on. Druk, finally having enough of watching Zuko muck through the ground, walked besides him, one wing unfurled to keep the rain away. The dragon kept grunting at him to stop being a fool and just ride him already, but Zuko stayed planted on his ostrich-horse.

It was quite a sight - a dragon sheltering an old man on an ostrich horse - though no one was around to see it.

They kept walking, the ostrich-horse growing damp and ornery while the cold started seeping into Zuko’s bones. Soon enough though, a dark patch cropped up on the horizon. The Foggy Swamp was spread out before them after another hour’s travel.

Zuko dismounted and Druk rested his stiff wing, now that the treetops blocked out most of the rain. A draft breathed through the swamp roots, moist and earthy. The ostrich-horse was jittery, but they waded through the mud towards the closest tree. He laid a hand on the root, a thick bundle of fiber, wet to the touch. He knocked on it, as if a door.

He sat on the tree root and waited. A few minutes later, he heard a crash and a boom, and finally a wheezing laugh.

“Well, look who came to visit,” Toph’s milky white eyes sparkled, bright with mischief as usual.

* * *

 

“You bring me any gifts?”

Zuko rifted through his saddle bags and threw a brown paper bag at her feet. He relished the trust she had in him, because she stuffed a handful of the contents into her mouth blindly.

“Fire flakes!” she garbled, “You sure know the way into a girl’s heart, Sparky.”

Toph happily munched her fire flakes as she lounged on a swamp root just outside her cave. Curled up close by, Druk huffed steam contently out his nose. The dragon had always liked Toph. She was the only one of them that could still play fetch with him - Druk had grown out of sticks and other toys, and only Toph could still lob boulders for him. Drops of rain dribbled down through the roof of the trees, but neither seemed to mind. 

Inside, Zuko sat on an outcropping stone, safe from the rain. The ostrich horse lazed by the fire he’d conjured up.

“How’s your world tour going? Find enlightenment yet?” she joked.

“Not yet. Just some good tea and fine company.”

“Fine company? Are you talking about me?”

“What else could I mean, dear Toph?” 

She sneered, “Keep the fire flakes coming and you’re not that bad a guest either.” She munched on another handful to emphasize. “It’s been awhile since I had company.  _ Decent  _ company. Those swampbenders aren’t good for more than a pummeling,” she smashed a fist into her palm. “Last time you visited was… oh, give take five years or so.”

“Eight,” Zuko quietly corrected.

“I said give or take. Before that, well, Aang used to stop by all the time. Not much of a party animal though. He came here for the ‘spiritual enlightenment’ and to ‘reaffirm his connection to the world’ and all that hooha. Lit up some candles and had me meditate with him. What an airhead!” she said with a smile, “We used to spy on you with the roots all the time.”

Zuko frowned, “Well, it’s nice to have my illusion of privacy shattered.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Sparky. We didn’t do it that often. You were always doing something boring, like sitting at your desk, working your life away. Wait, there was that one time we caught you-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Zuko cut her off.

“Whatever you say, Firelord Hothead.”

“I’m not Firelord any more.”

“Oh right, you’re ex-Firelord now! Welcome to the club!” the ex-Police Chief cheered. “We have joint ointment, long naps and the ever-present regret of all the years we’ve wasted.”

“Wasted?” he asked.

“‘Spent on worthwhile gains towards peace.’ Same thing.”

“Do you really think that?”

“Look, Sparky, try not to think about it too much. Just focus on spending whatever time you have left lazing around doing nothing. That’s what I do.”

Zuko furrowed his eyebrows. “You know I can’t do that. I’m still an ambassador and the world is still far from peace. The world still needs me.”

“You’d be surprised how well the world can do without you.”

Dew pattered down from the treetops, the rain apparently having lightened. Druk yawned, breathing out mist.

“Toph?” Zuko spoke in the silence. “You know that’s not true.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Sparky. I don’t need to hear you preach,” she bit out. “I’m not some old sop drying out the rest of her days alone and bitter, alright. But facts are facts, and the world doesn’t need us.”

“What are you saying? You created metalbending. You spent most of your life beating back crime. Of course the world needed you.”

“If I didn’t discover metalbending, somebody else would. If we didn’t stop the war, somebody else would. Maybe they would have done it centuries after us and not nearly as awesome as we did it, but it would’ve been done,” she gave him a wry smile. “And fighting crime? Those criminals come back. Republic City isn’t exactly a paradise after the years I spent on the beat. Face it: the world never needed me.”

“So you regret it. All of it,” Zuko said stiffly.

“Of course I don’t regret it. Some of it sure, but not all of it.”

“Then why spend all those years helping the world if you think it all amounted to nothing?”

“Because here’s the thing, Sparky: I didn’t do it for the world. I did it all for me.”

Her words sank slowly into Zuko’s mind. He still didn’t quite fully understand. He was happy that Toph had made peace with herself, but it all felt a little… selfish. Perhaps, after a lifetime spent in service to world, you were allowed to be a little selfish.

“If you don’t care about the world, why do you live in the swamp, keeping tabs on all of us all the time?”

“I really have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” She grumbled. ”The world might not need me, but I sure as hell still need the world.”

She laid a gnarled hand on the equally gnarled root beneath her and closed her eyes. Watching her kids maybe, or checking in on old friends; either way, she looked content. Zuko laid his own hand on the tree trunk, closed his eyes, and searched. Without a spiritual connection or seismic sense though, he felt nothing but the damp wood under his fingers.

“Now stop moping around!” Toph hopped off her root and shouted, “Aang might’ve been a bore, but you’re just depressing. Let’s go catch a big bug so we can make it into gumbo!”


	3. Guest Room

"Next please," droned the voice of the ticket keeper. Zuko trotted up to the booth and smiled hello to the lady on the other side, who merely scowled back at him. Ba Sing Se had never cared much about being welcoming.

"Passport and papers, please."

Inside his travel bag, his fingers grazed two sheets of paper. One was a hard sheet of red card, lined in gold and stamped with the seal of the Fire Nation royal family, a passport which had the power to take him straight to the Earth Queen's palace if he so chose. He had no desire to have another conversation with that woman in his lifetime though, so he didn't do that.

The other was also a passport, one that he had arranged to be made without anyone else knowing. The simple sheet detailed the identity of some common Fire Nation citizen, name and life generic enough to get him lost in a crowd. It was a fake, illegal and not the sort of thing an ex-leader of a country should have, but that was the price of anonymity. If he was found out, well, at least he'd get to test the limits of diplomatic immunity.

He could've flown Druk above the clouds and slinked down at nightfall, sure, but Zuko had wanted the nostalgia of sailing on a rundown ferry that should have been taken out of commission when he was 30.

His hand closed around one of the sheets and slipped it through to the keeper. A few glances and a smudged ink stamp later, the paper was returned to him.

"Welcome to Ba Sing Se, Mr. Lee," her voice droned.

* * *

Ba Sing Se was as aweing and appalling as ever. Zipping by on an earthbender powered train, the majesty of the city flashed by at dizzying speeds. The train car was at full capacity, its passengers here to experience the fabled city for themselves. Green gabled rooftops, fields of gold stitched all the way to the horizon, city streets pulsing with life in a way he'd never seen anywhere else. It made him catch his breath.

Yet, no matter the majesty, there were things that could not be ignored. The slums were dark and littered, almost the same as they'd been half a century ago, except now with pipes gushing steam and electric wires hanging tangled. Buildings stacked upon each other, the bases old and almost ready to collapse. The streets, which were crowded on the slow days, turned to a river of bodies during rush hours.

Kuei had wanted to raise the Lower Ring to something more than a slum, he remembered, though the enormity of the city was too much even for him. His daughter was never keen on continuing his work.

The once Firelord stood staring sadly through the window, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. A young man offered him his seat, which Zuko took with thanks. Thankfully, some things in Ba Sing Se hadn't changed at all. The rest of the trip sped along a little easier.

He stepped off the train and into the Lower Ring. The last time he'd set foot in the heart of Ba Sing Se, Zuko had been a badly tempered refugee. And now, he ghosted his past self's footsteps, reveling in the majesty of the city that he had refused to acknowledge in his youth.

He quickly faded into the crowd. Nondescript brown robes cloaked him and a conical hat kept the sun out of his eyes - a little out of fashion but what could you expect for an old man. It was for the best that he had gone for the local look; the times had changed, but Ba Sing Se was still lacking in diversity. The sight of red or blue robes were far and in between.

Following the sounds of hustling and bustling, Zuko found himself walking through a simple market street. Merchants sat back behind wooden stalls, their wares spread out for potential customers to inspect. He was admiring a bouquet of orchids when he caught sight of a young girl, no older than twelve, staring at him.

"Quit staring," the man in the fruit stand behind her said. He tipped his hat towards Zuko. "Sorry, about that sir."

"Not a problem. What's caught your eye, little miss?"

She studied him curiously. "You remind me of someone."

"Really? Who?"

"One of those… one of this fire guys in the papers! Don't you think, daddy?"

"Maybe a little," the vendor admitted shyly.

"I see," he mused, "Perhaps because I am one of those 'fire guys'."

A small flame burst to life in his palm. The girl's eyes shone with its reflection, and her face lit up in a grin. He flared the flame even bigger, letting it streak with blue and white.

"That's so cool," she said.

Zuko laughed. The world really had changed after all this time. The last time he revealed that he was secretly a firebender to a crowd of Earth Kingdom citizens, he'd been run out of town.

"There's not a lot of firebenders around here," her father explained, "And she's always been curious."

The girl turned to Zuko with a sparkle in her eyes. "You're not from around here, are you? I would have known if there was a firebender here!"

"You're right. I'm just visiting," he explained, "I'm only here for a few days and I'd like to make the most of it. You seem to know these parts, miss. Perhaps you could give me a tour?"

Her face shot up in a grin.

Zuko continued, turning to the vendor, "If that's alright with you, of course."

His face was creased with a bit of worry, but he couldn't say no with his daughter's grin in his face. Zuko knew that feeling well. "Just don't be out too late, alright?

...

"I'm Akemi. What's your name?"

"You can call me Lee."

"That makes you the third Mr. Lee I know," she said, "Follow me, I know exactly where we should go first!"

She ran off ahead, slipping through the crowd with the surefootedness of an fox-antelope. Zuko dawdled slowly behind, more like a lumbering komodo-rhino if anything. Between the masses of people, Zuko basked in the simplicity of Ba Sing Se's Lower Ring. It had changed much in the years he'd been away, but tones of the old days sang from beneath the cobbled stone and shining metal. Paper lanterns and wooden wind-chimes hung from the rooftops. Bards sat on the side of the street, singing songs for a pretty penny. A dirt path peeked out from between the cracks in the concrete. He could imagine walking through this same path 60 years ago.

When he finally caught sight of Akemi, she was bouncing on her heels waiting for him, the street behind her widening into a small plaza. Zuko caught his breath. A fountain trickled quietly in front of him, turtleducks floundering in the water and stirring around floating candles. Torch poles were set in a loose ring around the glistening water.

"This is the Firelight Fountain. It's prettier at night, but dad won't let me stay out that late," the girl said as he stared.

The citizens of Ba Sing Se must have been fond of the fountain, because it was well kept and cleaned, despite being older than Zuko himself. The fountain was exactly as he remembered it. It was as if time had stood still there.

Akemi tugged on his sleeve, calling him closer so she could whisper in his ear, "My parents met at this fountain."

"It's a beautiful place to meet," Zuko grinned. "Can I tell you a secret, too?"

She nodded eagerly.

"I had my first kiss at this fountain," he whispered in her ear.

She gasped. "Did you get married, too?"

"With the girl I kissed? No, I didn't marry her."

She frowned and crossed her arms, "Well, that's just rude."

"What, do I have to marry whoever I kiss?"

"Yes. It's the law."

"I've never heard of that law. And I've heard a lot of laws before," Zuko said, but she still was not convinced. "Well,  _she_  kissed  _me_. I don't have to marry her then."

She humphed, but smiled nonetheless. She pulled on his sleeve again, bringing him to stand at the fountain's edge.

"I like to feed the turtleducks," she said, fishing out a stale piece of bread that she'd been keeping in her pocket.

"Really? So do I."

They scattered breadcrumbs, watching the ducklings dip their little yellow heads in the water until only their shells were visible. They floated by so close that Zuko could've caught one in his gnarled hands.

"Where to next?" he asked when the last of the bread disappeared down the turtleducks' throats.

She pondered the question, sinking her hands into the fountain. "There's so many places in Ba Sing Se. We could go to the music street by my house, or the badgermole caves, or maybe we can visit the zoo, or Little Fire Nation - I guess you've already seen the real thing, though."

"The zoo right outside the Lower Ring?" he asked, and Akemi nodded. "I've never been there. One of my friend's told me about that one. In fact, he helped make." Zuko chuckled. "At least, that's what he said. From what he told me, it sounded more like a happy accident."

"Then let's go. We have to hurry if we want to make it back in time!"

And off she skipped again, though this time only in short bursts, apparently realizing that Zuko could only walk at the speed of waddling turtle-seal. She navigated back alleys and main roads with a confidence Zuko wouldn't have had in his own capital city. They were at the gilded gates of the zoo and paying for entrance before he could even name a street.

With its pens of stone jutting out of the earth, Ba Sing Se Zoo stood out against miles of flat fields that stretched out around it. It had grown over the years, now housing over two dozen species in the best conditions you'll see in the world - or at least, that was what the noticeboard said.

They spotted a family of tigerdillos, half a dozen rabaroos and even a komodo-rhino that Zuko could confirm, lumbered much like him. Zuko didn't care much for the animals, but was glad just to watch Akemi enjoy herself. Soft wind and warm sun made being outside and out of the city enjoyable enough as well.

Akemi was leaning dangerously far over the railing of the hog monkeys pen when she gasped, "It's almost time! Hurry Mr. Lee, we have to catch it!"

She grasped his hand and all but dragged him out the zoo and tumbling into the city. Something must have been happening up ahead because the sea of people only got thicker, people craning their necks to see and propping up their children on their shoulders so they could get a better view. It was a good thing Akemi held his hand; Zuko would've been swept away after two steps without her. Instead of wading through the crowd, they glided through a narrow alley and up a flight of rickety stairs before they reached a lamp-lit balcony. They overlooked a plaza, where, in the centre of a sea of people, was a simple wooden stage where actors danced in choreographed chaos, a whirl of gaudy costumes and whimsical story. He listened to what he could over the noise below. It was a play he'd never heard of before, a story of queens and armies and spirits of the wind.

They'd shown up late to the show, but Zuko watched enraptured. Plays were a thing he indulged in less and less over the years. Once his mother had passed away, there was no one left to drag him out to one. And if he were being honest, he had avoided them for years, knowing he would miss her too much to bear. He's not sure he could name half a dozen plays he'd went to in the last 20 years.

Akemi pointed to an actress on the stage, a woman with a stern face, jewels in her hair, and dressed in tawny armor.

"That's my mom. She acts in the plays," she whispered.

He smiled, watching how the girl's eyes glowed as much as they did when she'd gazed at Zuko's fire. He whispered, "My mother loved to act in plays, too."

…

It was well past midday when the actors made their final bows.

As they walked down the staircase, Zuko said, "Thank you for everything today, Akemi. Join me for a cup of tea before you go home? My treat."

She stuck out her tongue, "I don't like tea."

"Then I'll buy you some of those little cakes. Anything you want."

Her eyes sparkled at that. "Alright. Where to?"

Zuko only knew one place of course, though it was a little far. Thankfully, they still had daylight, and after a short ride on the metro, the two were walking through the mahogany doors of the Jasmine Dragon.

The man behind the counter noticed him instantly. "L-Lord Zu-"

Zuko dashed forward and clasped a firm hand on the man's shoulder, half as a hello, half as a way to say  _you better stop right there_. "Seunggi, it's been quite a while since I last saw you. You remember me,  _Mr. Lee_ , right?

Dark eyes stared at him, as if the man was trying to get Zuko's image in focus. "...Of course."

"Good. A table for two please."

Seunggi was settled enough to keep up his professionalism. "Orders?"

"A jasmine, please. And whatever the lady would like."

"Do you have mooncakes?" Akemi asked, peeking over the counter.

"We do. The best in the city."

"I want a mooncake.  _Two_ mooncakes. Please."

The store steward nodded and showed them to their table. Akemi kept herself busy with the complementary brew tastings the shop offered. She didn't like any of them, but she couldn't resist free samples.

When their order arrived, she settled back down at her seat. She wolfed down a mooncake before she started talking again. "This is a nice place Mr. Lee. How'd you hear about it?"

Zuko blew steam from his tea. "A long, long time ago, I used to work here."

"What were you doing in Ba Sing Se so long ago?" she asked.

Zuko laughed, remembering the circumstances that had brought him to the city. It might as well have been from another life with how long ago it felt.

"You end up in a lot of places when you're young and confused."

Curiosity shone in her eyes. So he reveled her in stories from long ago, tales of dragons and stormy seas and long journeys on ostrich-horseback. As best as he could without the names, for simplicity's sake. Maybe one day she'd be able to put a name to a face, but for now, he was just an old man with a some exciting stories to tell.

When they're done, they head for the counter again.

"Here you are, Seunggi." Zuko said, a small burlap pouch falling on the counter with a muted  _thud._

The man peeked inside and his eyes widened. "Lord- I mean, Mr. Lee, your bill was only a few coppers!"

"Pay it forward. Also, get me a dozen mooncakes to go."

The steward shook his head, appalled, but stepped to the back to get Zuko's order.

"I'll be back soon," he told Seunggi when the basket of mooncakes was in his hands. "Get another cup of jasmine ready for me."

Orange and pink washed they sky as he and Akemi rode the train back to her home. Before she stepped out to the Lower Ring again, Zuko passed the basket into her hands.

"This is for your family. Tell them thank you, and tell your mother the play was wonderful."

She took the basket in her hands and grinned, walking out with a spring in her step. A coarse  _beep_ rung through the station, signalling the doors were about to close.

"Thank you, Mr. Lee," Akemi said, and brought her hands together in an Earth Kingdom bow. "Visit again soon, okay?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he told her, and then the doors of the train car are closing, and he's speeding down the line once more.

* * *

With an infinitely refilled cup of jasmine in his hand, Zuko sat in the corner of the teashop, watching patrons flow in and out as the sky turned black outside. Slowly, the last visitors paid their tabs and the final employees said goodbye for the night, until it was just him and Seunggi, standing at the doors of the Jasmine Dragon. Seunggi, hair graying and brown eyes tired, locked the doors for the night with a worn smile.

"I didn't know you were in the city yet. Your letter was pretty… vague," the man said as they began their walk to his apartment.

"I wasn't too sure when I was going to show up. Every day has been going whichever way the wind blows, and I didn't want to keep you waiting."

"You should've given me more time to get ready. We haven't made anything special for your visit," the younger man said with a timid smile.

"None of that nonsense. I don't want you to go to any trouble for me, other than giving me the guest room key."

"I guess I can do that," he joked. "How have you been? I can't imagine that the last week hasn't taken a toll on you."

"I'm doing fine. I throw my back out sometimes but that's a normal thing," Zuko chuckled. "How's your mother?"

"Healthy. Not fit enough to be trekking across the Earth Kingdom, but still healthy."

"That's good to hear."

They came to the front of a white brick house with a green tiled roof, still well kept for its age. It was the apartment Zuko and his uncle had stayed at in those short weeks when they were hiding as refugees in Ba Sing Se.

After Iroh had died, he gave the teashop and his apartment over to Mei, a young woman from the Lower Ring that had worked for him. He'd called her the 'tea-loving child I never had', much to Zuko's, very petty, annoyance. It wasn't Zuko fault that he never got a taste for tea until his mid-40's. Or was it mid-30's? Either way, tea was always just something he tolerated, until age took hold and the drink's restorative properties became vital in everyday life. He never could say no to a cup of jasmine after that.

Mei had been an apprentice and a friend at the Jasmine Dragon. She had gifted uncle a white dragon bush, which became one of his most prized possessions. They'd tended to the delicate plant together, and now the plant wound across the arbors in front of the house, white petals folded up as if asleep. When Mei grew old, she passed the teashop's care to her son, Seunggi, who cared for it as tenderly as his mother and Iroh had tended to the dragon bush.

The mahogany doors swung open to a quiet night. The dark house and the soft snoring coming from across the hall told them that Mei had already gone to sleep.

Seunggi pointed to a closed door at the end of the hall, and said in a hushed voice, "The door's unlocked. I think it's too late for dinner, but there's food in the kitchen if you want something to eat. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Seunggi. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They split towards their separate halls, bare feet treading softly on the hardwood floor. A rusted hinge groaned as he opened the door to the guest room. Zuko's heart stuttered at the doorway. He'd thought he'd given it enough time, but the room still echoed the memory of its once owner.

Iroh had passed down his house as well as his teashop after he'd died. There had only been three people living in the house after that - Mei, her husband, and Seunggi - so Iroh's room was converted into housing for guests. Well, converted as in cleaned up and left alone, as most of the room was untouched from the time Iroh had resided there. Old photos and paintings hung on the walls, the same as it'd always been. An old ruby-eyed statuette of a monkey sat on the dresser, overdo for a polish. Old clothes were folded at the bottom of the closet. The mattress had been covered with a white tarp to save it from dust, but other than that, it looked like his uncle could still be living there.

The door groaned again as it closed.

He made himself busy, first setting his meager bag of supplies on the vanity. He sat before the mirror, searching for a few things to wash up with before bed. Before Zuko could escape the room though, he caught sight of something - a picture frame on the side of the vanity. A sheen of dust spoke its age, if the contents itself weren't enough - himself, dark-haired and posture straight, standing next to Iroh, face weathered though smile still bright, as they posed for a picture together. Their last picture together.

And Zuko couldn't help the tears welling in his eyes. Zuko had thought he'd grown old enough for it to stop hurting, but it seemed that age had no effect. Gazing around his Uncle's old room still pained him. The only difference was that he was old enough to admit it. There was no fear or worry to Zuko's pain - he was too old to still fear whether or not his uncle would approve of the paths he'd taken, and too old to still worry whether he should've done more while his uncle still lived.

He just missed him. And it seemed that no stretch of time could ever change that.

Zuko turned back to the mirrored vanity. White haired and stiff jointed, he was older than his uncle was when they'd left to sail the world, searching for the Avatar. He was older than his uncle had been when he'd passed.

What had Zuko done in that time? He didn't feel nearly as wise, or as balanced, or as fearless as his uncle. By all accounts, Zuko still felt like he was tripping his way forward at times.

Uncle had always seemed to know the way forward - at least, that was always how his younger mind had seen it. Perhaps that wasn't always the case. After all, a great majority of people would would look at Zuko today and say he was on an extensively planned journey of momentous mental and spiritual importance, where in reality, it was a spur-of-the-moment escapade with him crying out at fate to take the reins.

Perhaps it was the same for his uncle. Perhaps joining Zuko on his cursed search had been a cry out to fate as well.

Zuko breathed a sigh that rang through his bones. Body and mind ached for respite after a full day's travel. He pulled the tarp off the bed with little ceremony and lowered himself onto the mattress.

He tossed in the dark for a moment, stealing glances at momentos scattered through the room. Though he had long passed being haunted by the question, he wondered what his uncle thought of him now. He wondered if he'd be happy to see Zuko exploring the city he'd always loved. Zuko had enjoyed it, at the very least. He slept easy, with that thought in mind.

In the morning, he found a green apron in the closet and walked out to the living room, where Mei squinted at him from her rocking chair.

Her smile was still bright as ever. "You look so much like him, I thought it was Iroh walking out of the room just then."

She wrapped him in an embrace in welcome, and Zuko told her that was the greatest compliment she could have ever given him.


	4. Paper Street

A boy gasped, pointing up to the sky like the excited child he was. "Mama, look! It's a dragon!"

Above, slinking between the skyscrapers of Republic City, a red scaled dragon flew. Thousands of eyes stared up at the beast. It wasn't the first time most had seen it, but it was an uncommon enough occurrence to be in the presence of the last known dragon on earth.

"A dragon," the mother repeated. "The Firelord must be in town."

Besides them, a hooded old man, one of the few that had not turned up to stare, laughed, "Yes, he must be. Unannounced, too."

* * *

Even though he sat in the squashed corner of the diner, everything seemed  _bright._ Republic city was  _bright_. Jazz seemed to hum through every street, tinting life with a breeze of cheer. Sunlight poured through giant store windows and turned the sides of skyscrapers into molten gold. Cars and people of all colors walked across black asphalt like a swirling field of flowers, all flowling together, yet to their own beat.

He felt it, and he loved it. It made him feel small, like one tiny pulse in the beating heart that was Republic City. Its enormity got away from him.

A blur of orange and yellow shot past the diner's window. There was the tinkling of the bell as the door opened, and Tenzin stood in the doorway, winded.

He caught sight of the old Firelord and dashed into the corner booth. "Lord Zuko, I came as soon as I got your message."

"You didn't bring Pema and the kids?"

"I'm sure you can tell me whatever you wanted to tell me without them here."

Zuko frowned, "Tenzin, I just wanted to share breakfast with you and your family."

The councilman furrowed his eyebrows. "That… that's it?"

"Why would it be anything more?"

The bell at the front rung again and in a moment an ironclad, grey-haired woman was marching up to their table.

"Lord Zuko, sir. I got your letter," Lin announced, holding the sheet of paper Zuko had sent from Gaoling - which read that he'd be in Republic City in a week, and wanted to meet her in the diner they were currently making a scene in. The police chief side-eyed the airbender. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too, Lin," Tenzin sighed.

"If you called this guy in as well, it must be something important. What's happening?"

Zuko threw his hands up, "Nothing's happening! Why do you kids always think I have bad news when I come to visit?"

"So… nothing's wrong?" Lin asked.

"Nothing is wrong! I'm visiting Republic City for the first time in years and I called you here so we could have breakfast together as friends; family, really. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Sorry, sir. You've just never been one to…" Lin trailed off.

"I can be social if I want to. Now sit down, have something to drink."

The two shuffled their feet for a moment, before Zuko gave them a glare and they took a seat at the booth.

A waiter came around, paper in hand. "What'll it be?"

"I'll have a jasmine tea, please. And you two?"

"Coffee. Black," was Lin's answer, looking glum.

"Nothing for me, thank you," Tenzin said.

Zuko frowned at the airbender. "Hmm… get me a cup of ginseng for him, and whatever your breakfast special is for the table."

The waiter nodded and walked away before Tenzin began to argue.

"Lord Zuko, that's really not necessary-"

"But I'm going to do it anyway. So sit back down and wait for your tea. Ginseng calms the mind. I think."

"Then he's going to need all the ginseng he can get," Lin muttered

Tenzin leaned back into his chair, arms crossed like a petulant child. The two scowled from across the table, with a bit more intensity than a little joke could have earned. Were Tenzin and Lin the two that had dated when they were kids? Ah. Perhaps it was a good thing Pema and the kids hadn't come.

Zuko sat there, studying the menu, trying to ignore the all too obvious tension in the air. When Tenzin began incessantly shaking his leg - and the table with it - and when the sound of Lin absentmindedly winding and unwinding one of her metal cords started to give him a headache, he slammed the menu back down on the table.

"Enough. If I wanted to see people scowling I would've just looked in the mirror."

Tenzin flinched. "I'm sorry Lord Zuko, I just don't know how much time I can make for this."

"Same goes for me. The station's overloaded and I need to get back."

"It's the weekend," Zuko argued.

"There's no breaks on this job, sir," Lin answered.

"Everyone needs a break."

"Not when there's so much work to be done."

Zuko snorted. "Do you think I stepped down as Firelord because I thought there was no more work to be done? There's more work to be done than ever. But that doesn't mean you can't have a break."

They slouched down, not convinced. Zuko studied them, and wondered when they had gotten so weary. He and Toph and Aang and everyone else had worked to try and keep their burdens off their children's shoulders, and yet here they were - the councilman, the police chief, and the Firelord, tired and world-weary as ever.

"Look," he spoke, a tad more gentle, "I know more than anyone what it's like to be under pressure. I know what it's like to be a leader. It feels like doing anything less than working yourself to the bone isn't enough. And maybe it isn't. One lifetime really isn't enough time to fix the world."

That did little to smooth the lines of stress from their faces, but it was true. The Avatar, after all, had been given thousands of lifetimes, yet even they could only do so much.

"There are a lot of things I regret about my life. Do I regret not working more? Sometimes, maybe. But what I regret much, much more, was not spending enough time with friends - with family."

And that, he knew, had struck home. Here was Lin - estranged from both her mother and sister, and so committed to her job that it put Zuko's workaholism to shame. Tenzin, though he had raised his family with love, was oceans away from his mother and siblings, and after Aang died, he'd thrown himself into his role as councilman, as if continuing his father's work would bring him closer to him.

He knew their lives were busy; even after this, Lin likely wouldn't find the time or the energy to reconnect with her family, and Tenzin would only become more entrenched in the business of the council as the city went another year without its Avatar. They were busy, busy people. So Zuko had gone to them, and he might not be Aang or Katara or Toph, but he was family enough - at least, he hoped so.

"So entertain an old man and join me for tea. It's been awhile since I've spent time with you  _youths._ "

Lin allowed herself a smile. "I don't think you can really call us youths anymore, Lord Zuko."

"And no more of this  _Lord_ nonsense. You two used to call me  _uncle_ Zuko. But then again, I always told you not to call me that. So maybe it's my fault."

Tenzin smiled, "Are you going to head to Air Temple Island after this? Your room is ready."

"Not yet. I've spent most of my life trying to build this city and I'd like a chance to finally see it for myself."

"I think you'll like what you see. It has its faults, but Republic City is home for so many of us. We're indebted to you for the work you've done to bring it to this point."

"That's one thing I'll agree with you on," Lin said.

* * *

Zuko had seen the maps, the pictures, the blueprints and ground plans, had even watched the city speed by through the window of a Satomobile, but nothing could compare to standing at the very feet of the world's youngest nation. A picture could never capture the soft music following him through downtown, or the looming grandeur of Harmony Tower's scaffolding above him, or how the mist made Air Temple look like it was floating on clouds.

To him, Republic City had always been paper streets and blueprint buildings, but now he was at ground level, and he could never imagine the city as two-dimensional ever again. Men and women passed him by, lives busy, feet fast, making a world for themselves out of what the city had to offer.

He passed by the train station, where people flowed in and out like a never ending stream. Above the hustle and bustle, a bronze statue watched over the crowd.

Zuko frowned up at the metal. Did people really have to pass his stupid face everyday?

He'd made a speech at the unveiling, he remembered. He'd forgotten what he'd said. Zuko was never good with speeches. Something about a connected world and how far technology had progressed, probably. And progress it did. Zuko was never the best spokesperson for that kind of thing - he was still dumbfounded by the first telephone.

He kept walking, making his way steadily to the bay. The streets were wide, flanked by towers that seemed to have no end, the neon lights of store signs bright against chrome metals and gray brick. It was exotic, almost. The Fire Nation had grown too, throughout the years, but the change had been like a young oak filling into its full size. Republic City was like a whole new species. He could walk through this one street and find just about everything - phonographs, fresh fruit, Fire Nation spices, spare car parts, a new radio, authentic Southern seal jerky, even little bobblehead versions of Aang, apparently. It was nice to know there could still be things new to him even at his age.

The growling of a satomobile suddenly echoed from in front of him. Passersby began to walk faster, store signs quickly turned to  _closed_. It didn't take long for Zuko to catch on either. The bright red satomobile, the three men in silk suits jumping out and trading words with the frail looking owner of what looked like an antique store; racketeering in broad daylight - well, broad sunset, at least.

Of the three, a man dressed in blue, the likely waterbender of the group, was taking charge, words of  _protection_ and  _unfortunate incidents_ slithering from his mouth _._

"Excuse me," Zuko said in a voice that didn't care at all whether he was excused or not, "But I don't believe you're welcome here."

The goon looked him up and down. "You're out a little past your bedtime there, oldtimer. It'd be better for both of us if you get lost."

"And it'll be better for you if you leave this instant."

"Who do you think you are, old man?"

"That hardly matters. The question is who do you think you are to be terrorizing the people of this city."

"Us?" He smiled and spread out his hands. "We're the kings of the the street. The Triple Threat Triad. Is that dementia setting in, or did you just forget?"

Zuko scoffed. "You? Kings? More like parasites preying on the weak and innocent. You don't deserve anything this city had given you."

"Look, we've been pretty good on the 'no hurting the sick and elderly' rule so far, but I'll make an exception if I have to."

"Try me."

Zuko might've been old, but he was a firebending master. If it came down to it, Zuko was confident he could take the fool. Alone, at least. Take account the other three, and he might have to call down Druk.

The goon huffed at the proposal, but rolled his shoulders back and cracked his knuckles, laughing, still only half-believing that this old loon had challenged him to a fight. The rest of his crew smiled at Zuko with mock pity.

Before either of the made a step forward, the eyes of the red suited thug, likely the firebender of the bunch, sparked with recognition. "Wait, you- you're the Firelord."

Zuko rolled his eyes, "Former Firelord, please."

A look of absolute shock covered the leader's face, and Zuko couldn't help but chuckle. At the sound, the man wiped off the look and scowled. "I don't care if the Avatar herself was in front of me. I'll fight anyone who thinks they can get in my way!"

"Wait, boss," the firebender reached for his arm, turning the thug around so he could mutter something into his ear. They whispered scathing words back and forth, loud enough that Zuko could have heard them if he was a few years younger.

When they turned around again, the man steadied a biting look towards Zuko, before breaking out a grin. "Looks like it's your lucky day. We don't have time to deal with royalty tonight. Consider it a thanks for all the hard work you've done," he said with a mock bow, "But don't forget: you might have built this city, but we're the ones who own it."

Then he and his men piled into their car, revving the engines and filling the storefront with smoke. The man flashed him one last smirk. "Enjoy your stay."

Tires screeched on asphalt, and the men were gone, their laughter echoing down the street.

* * *

The rest of the night was quiet. The store owner had asked him inside for a cup of tea as thanks, but Zuko had said he had to be on his way. He left the shaken man with a farewell, promising to bring up the issue with the station, though Zuko knew Lin was already doing all she could.

A sigh rocked his lungs as he walked on. The city lights seemed colder now, harsher on the eyes. Crooked rooftops and cracked sidewalks appeared to be the defining traits of the city, along with the ever-present growl of car engines. Men and women huddled in alleyways, children flitted across the streets without a care, and with no one to care for them, all the while triad cars shot past unchallenged.

Another sigh escaped. Who knew paper streets had such flesh and blood problems?

Zuko reached the edge of the bay, where in the distance, Aang's statue glowed against the dark water. The two of them had been hailed as the creators of this city, and the world had always considered it as one of their crowning achievements. But could he really claim a city wracked with unchecked crime and poverty as a triumph?

Zuko never truly considered himself a founder of the Republic City. He had neither sown the seeds nor tended to its growth, he merely convinced the other nations not to nip it at the bud. Yet decades later, standing at the foot of the concrete jungle itself, he felt he could have done more. Should have done more.

But that was all wishful thinking. There would always be more work to be done, and by that standard, everything he'd done and would ever do would never be enough. It was time to let go of the could haves and the should haves, and make use of what he did have. And right now, he had a few weeks left of vacation, and a city he would love to explore.

Across the water, jutting out into the pier, was the Pro-bending Arena. It was an architectural masterpiece - colossal in size, polished in design, and blasted in golden lighting. Roars of the crowd could be heard through the concrete walls.

Zuko wandered up to the entrance, now desolate, except for a single ticket seller and two young boys, one pressed up against the glass of the ticketbooth, and the other leaning against the wall of the stadium, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

The one at the booth was pleading, "Come on, please! I know you have tickets left!"

The vendor scowled, "Yeah, I do. Balcony seats. You kids don't make that kinda money in a year. So scram!"

"But sir," the boy pleaded as if in a radio drama, soaking his voice with heartache, "My brother and I love Pro-Bending. We listen to the matches on the radio every day. Please, it's the Lion Vultures versus the Catgators tonight. Just this once, please!"

"Nice sob story. Tell it to someone who cares!"

The other boy pulled his brother by the arm. "C'mon bro, stop wasting your time. Let's go."

He watched curiously as they started to leave. They were here without their parents. It wasn't hard to assume from their thin frames and worn clothes that they didn't have any. His earlier thoughts came back to bite him, and he couldn't help but feel bitter - mostly at himself. He was hailed as the creator of this city, and yet he had done so little to help those who lived in the streets he'd helped built.

It was late, but Zuko stepped forwards towards the booth.

"Three tickets for the balcony, please," Zuko said, placing a stack of yuans in the window.

The keeper stared, as if he couldn't decipher what he'd just said. "Are you sure, sir? The game's almost halfway over."

"That's fine," he assured, taking the tickets in hand.

Behind him, the boys had stopped to stare. He held the tickets towards them. "Would you boys like to join me? I need some company. And someone to explain the rules of this game to me, because I don't have the faintest clue."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Lin and Tenzin make up Team Family Grumps, and you cannot convince me otherwise. Thanks for the comments and kudos so far everyone! Two more chapters to go, hope you're enjoying it!


	5. Far South

Druk landed in the South Pole with a hiss. His claws touched down on solid ice - slippery, cold and wet. The dragon had no tolerance for the cold, and spewed fire on his toes to keep warm. Druk wasn't the only one steaming.

A few steps away, welcoming them to the South Pole was none other than Katara. A scowl was etched on her face, "It wouldn't kill you to visit more often, would it?"

* * *

With both the North Pole and the Fire Nation pledging aid, the South Pole had grown exponentially after the end of the war. Knit together by the knowledge that two of their own had helped defeat Firelord Ozai, the scattered tribes of the tundra regrouped and set their site for a new capital.

Now, the seeds that had been sown sprung out of the ice as a city that washed over the mountain sides, walls white as marble and windows shining like polished crystal. Looking over the city on one side was the towering beacon of the lighthouse, and on the other, the elegant spires of the royal palace. In the early morning light, the city seemed tinted in gold.

The streets were paved in hard packed snow, stiff as stone under his feet. Water Tribesman darted in and out of their houses like minnows, not wanting to be out in the cold any longer than they needed to be. When they caught sight of him, they stared with fish eyes, and darted along a beat slower. There was no hope of blending in with the crowd, so Zuko had wore his own Fire Nation red coat, which could probably be spotted from cloud level. He didn't mind, though. He walked through the city streets, nearly as captivated as he had been in Ba Sing Se. Katara, who walked by his side, was not nearly as thrilled.

"Maybe you wouldn't be so surprised if you came to visit more often than once every half decade," she grumbled when Zuko noted how much the city had changed.

"I try Katara, I really do."

"An airship, a royal cruiser, a dragon, and this is the best you can do? When was the last time you came to visit?"

The few seconds it took him to remember did nothing to lessen his guilt.

"The funeral," he said in a quiet voice.

"See? Someone has to die for you to even think of coming down here. I could use some company you know?"

"We met at the coronation. That was only three months ago."

"And even then I'm the one who had to go to  _you_."

"You're always welcome to visit the palace," he said in an effort to appease her, but Katara's stone hard scowl turned icy cold.

"No, Zuko. I've had enough of traveling for a lifetime. I've spent half my life on a sky bison and half my life in a city that didn't exist when I was born. I'd like to spend the rest of my days at home, thank you very much. Call me selfish, but I'm not going to be chasing people around anymore. If you visit, you visit; if you don't, you don't."

It was against Katara's nature to be so callous, and judging from the twitch of her lip, it was hard to keep up.

"What happened to caring, loving Katara?" he teased.

"I've spent my whole life being caring, loving Katara! I want some return on that now."

Zuko smiled at her scowl, thinking just how strange it looked on her. Without truly thinking, he wrapped her in an embrace.

"I'm sorry. I'm a horrible friend, I know," he said. "Toph sends her love as well."

"Toph has an excuse not to visit, you big oaf," she cursed at him, but wrapped her arms around him as well.

Zuko had started the hug with a laugh, meaning it as something light to comfort Katara, but somewhere in between, his throat choked up. Sadness flooded through him as he realized how much he actually regretted not visiting more often. He'd missed so much. When had Katara's hair started to frost over with white? When did her shoulders start to droop down, as if so tired? Where had he been all this time?

He'd always meant to visit more; but when had they gotten so  _old_?

"I'm sorry," he choked out again as they pulled away from the embrace.

Her facade of uncaring had thawed, spilling meltwater in her eyes. "It's alright. I'm sorry for being so harsh on you, I know you've been busy. It's just that after Aang and Sokka passed away… it felt like I was suffocating sometimes."

"I'm so sorry. I should've known."

"Don't get me wrong, I love my home and I'm so thankful that Kya's stayed here with me, but… I miss the old days," her voice was soft, tired, as if her words were a secret she'd carried for too long. "The world keeps changing. It moves forward without me. Some days it's like no one else understands me anymore."

Her words were painfully true. Too often, elders missing the old days was misinterpreted by the youth - and even by the elders themselves sometimes - as condescension for the new. It was quite the opposite, really. They were proud of the new generation and all it had accomplished. They were just sad that there wasn't much of a place for them in the new world.

He'd felt it in his last years on the throne - the world speeding by him and making his thoughts, his ideas and himself seem like relics from the past.

"I understand," he said to her.

"Of course you do," she smiled, bumping his arm with her shoulder. "No one understands us old folk like each other."

* * *

The two doddle their way to Katara's house, a cozy ice brick building that was a far cry from the igloos he'd nearly destroyed on his first visit to the South Pole. She never lets him forget that.

"Don't let Zuko get his hands on one of those Satomobiles. He'll park it through your front door," she'd say with a spark in her eyes.

But for all the teasing, she welcomed him in with more than a little worry, as was usual Katara fashion. She told him he was a fool for straining his body week after week, and a downright idiot for trying to do it alone. She led him to a pool of healing water, where Zuko tried to appease her and say he felt fine. Katara was not convinced.

"You're not young anymore, you know that. Now's not the time to be proud."

As always, Katara was right. The second her healing water touched his skin, his facade of vigor broke like a dam, fatigue lacing through every tendon of his body. How he hadn't dropped dead in the Earth Kingdom, his body had no idea.

Kya dropped in, took the reins on healing for one moment, and seconded her mother's scolding.

"Are you trying to kill yourself, Uncle Zuko?"

"You two are insufferable."

Kya smiled. "We're healers. It's our job."

Anyway, after round two of teasing, he felt fit and fine, the cold now not as biting and his eyesight not doing that thing where it faded out for no reason every few minutes (though he didn't tell Katara that last part because she would have called him an idiot again). It was a joy to sit on the back of a snowmobile without the fear that his back might break when he stood up.

Katara drove, of course. ("I'm not letting you get your hands on this snowmobile. You'll crash it through the front gate.") Icy winds howled past them but Zuko was about six layers deep in fur and cloth, to the point a short dagger might not reach his skin. Firebenders weren't fond of the cold.

The engine purred to a stop at the foot of a glacial wall. Great ornate gates spread out before them, so tall he had to crane his neck to see the top. Two towers flanked the closed entrance, where a guard peered down at them. Katara waved up, the white and blue garbed guard disappeared into the wall, and the icen gate began to slowly crack open.

"It's pretty out of the way, isn't it," Katara muttered. "I don't visit the city much since I moved in. But I made that special trip just for you."

"I'm honored," Zuko joked, then frowned as he stared up at the foreboding wall. "I was never the biggest fan of keeping her in the compound. But it keeps her safe, I suppose."

"No one likes keeping her pent up here."

"She'll just end up running away one day."

Katara grinned, "Oh, I don't doubt it."

The Avatar's compound opened up before them. Training sets of rope and wood tangled around him - just looking at them made his joints ache. Watchtowers rose above them, where more blue and white clad guards stared down at them. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen in the compound in months. But then again, they were watching over an Avatar in training, so the job likely came with  _some_ excitement. Especially with this Avatar in particular.

A red stone arena laid at the center of it all, occupied. There was dust in the air and rubble on the field, a clear sign of some rather violent earthbending.

"Korra! I have someone who'd like to meet you," Katara called out to the girl squared up on the stone. The others on the field, likely her trainers - more like her punching bags, really - seemed relieved at the interruption.

"This is Zuko. I think you've heard of him," Katara said.

"It's good to see you again, Korra," Zuko said with a bow.

He hadn't seen her in years, not since those first few weeks after they'd found her, it had all just been too busy. The White Lotus sent him reports on the Avatar's progress on the regular so he knew enough about her - how fast she'd risen through her training, her trouble with learning airbending, her stubbornness that could rival his own - but Zuko had always tried to keep his distance, for selfish reasons. He had no resentment towards Korra - how could he? She was a bright-eyed child with such a love of the world, ready to do anything she could to help it. But still. He didn't know how Katara did it.

"Hi, Lord Zuko. It's a surprise to see you out here," Korra bounded up to him, returning the bow, "Are you going to teach me firebending?"

The question took him by surprise. "I think you can find someone much better than me to teach you. I don't have the strength."

"Or the patience," Katara said, "You almost set Aang on fire every time you taught him and he was a big pushover. Korra's as headstrong as you."

"Alright, I'm not a good teacher, I get it."

Korra didn't press the issue, "I heard you retired a few months ago. It was the only thing the radio talked about for like a week."

"I did. I'm on vacation right now actually."

"Zuko's been gallivanting all over the world. He was running around the Earth Kingdom last week, killing his back," Katara said.

Korra's smile faltered for a moment. "I wish I could travel the world."

She store at the blue sky above the walls for a moment, and Zuko's heart very near broke. By this age, Aang had traveled the entire world, had been free as the wind itself; Korra had been trapped in this compound for as long as she could remember. It didn't sit well with him, and he doubted it would sit well with Aang as well.

But it was for her safety, they'd said. The world was different now. She'd get her chance, one day. They just had to be patient. Korra and he both.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, and smiled. "I'd love for you to join me one day."

Korra smiled up at him. "All right! Well, even if you're not here to train me, do you think you could still show me some firebending?"

"Oh, well, there's not much I could teach you. I hear you're quite a talented bender already."

"I am, but you're the  _Firelord._  Or, well, you used to be. C'mon, I'm sure you've got some tricks to show me!"

Katara smiled. "You should do it, Zuko. Show the girl what us old folks can do."

"Me? Why me? Why don't you show her?"

"How could you even suggest that? I've got that hip condition."

"What? No, you don't!"

"How would you know? Stop arguing and go fight with her."

Zuko was silent for a moment, trying to retrace his steps to see how he had gotten into this situation. You know, they always said he didn't think ahead. Of course, no amount of thinking ahead would have prepared him to fight the Avatar today - he thought he'd done the last of that 70 years ago. "...Alright."

"Yeah!" Korra threw her hands up in a cheer, before dashing off to get ready.

The two elders stared on as she left, soft smiles on their faces, as they watched that all too familiar excitement. They'd seen it before - a bright eyed wonder, a love of the world.

"You see a lot of Aang in her, don't you?" Katara asked.

"If Aang had a love of fighting, absolutely."

The sentimental moment was broken up when Korra came back and threw a padded helmet into Zuko's hands. Before he knew it, he was suited up in some training armor, facing the Avatar on the arena.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Zuko asked Katara, who was grinning from the sidelines.

"Don't be silly. I have complete faith in your abilities."

"You didn't answer the question."

Katara just laughed. Korra mimicked the smile from the other side of the circle, fists up in front of her, just waiting to strike.

"I'll stick with firebending, alright Lord Zuko! I think using the other elements would be an unfair advantage!"

Zuko managed his own smirk. "Don't go too easy. I've faced the Avatar plenty of times in my day."

"And you lost every time!" Katara shouted.

Korra laughed, before punching off a fireball point blank. Then another, and one more left hook to round it out. Zuko dispersed the flames with a brush of his hands and came out of it with only a slight crick in his wrist. Katara's teasing might not be very helpful, but thank the spirits for her healing.

It was Zuko's turn to lunge, shooting a stream of flames towards the Avatar. She rolled to the side and came out of it with her own blast of fire. Zuko didn't have the joints for any fancy footwork, so he stood his ground and dissipated the flames, but it left him a sitting turtleduck as Korra moved into kick after kick.

Powerful. Face-paced. Aggressive. Korra's style seemed to be aiming for an overpowering attack, blunt, forceful and fast. It was a tiring technique, but a smart one - Korra didn't need to fight for long, just longer than Zuko. He was forced into the defensive, dodging shots, slashing away flames and trying to keep his balance amidst a flurry of attacks. Agreeing to a spar with a young, spry Avatar who happened to favor firebending as her mode of attack was looking to be a poorer and poorer decision every second. A win at this point would just be to stay standing after it all.

There was a break in the fight, and Zuko took the chance to squeeze in an attack of his own, two arcs of red hot flames, one low and one high. The Avatar leapt between them with a grin. She came out of it with a vigor. She shot fireball after fireball, sent slashes of fire and spinning kicks, ending with a burst of flame that would make even Druk jealous. It looked like Korra had only been testing his limits until now - now, she wanted to break through.

It was enough fire to overpower just about any defensive technique. Any defensive technique Korra might've known, at least, and perhaps that's why she'd attacked like she did, to see how he would react to an attack she herself couldn't face. The answer drew back to the basics, to the root of all fire - it all came back to the breath.

He moved his arms out around him, and as the flames came closer, they fell out of Korra's control and into his. His breath came easy, despite the scorching air - it came with years of practice and many an occasion of angry benders shooting fireballs at his face. The flames parted at his command and petered out as they moved around him. Zuko brought his hands down in front of him, releasing the last of his breath as the last licks of flame died away. He looked impressive for a moment, like a true lord of fire - but then he got a crick in his shoulder which put him in the less graceful position of clutching his arm in pain.

Korra was still squared up on the field, a sparkle in her eyes. "You're pretty cool, Lord Zuko."

Zuko smiled through the pain. Nice to know that the Avatar still found him neat.

* * *

After another impromptu healing session, and a quick lunch break, they said their goodbyes to Korra and made their way out of the compound. Sadly, that meant the lighter part of Zuko's day had ended. He and Katara hopped back on the snowmobile and headed towards the city.

On the outskirts of the Southern city was a fenced off patch of ice. Stones and crystals jutted on the surface, like a great god had sown seeds in the ice. The place was empty most days, quiet always, and time there always seemed to move in a sludge.

The graveyard wasn't really a graveyard. The permafrost this far south was too hard to dig up and bury people in. The headstones that laid around stood as memorials, but the actually bodies of the dead were usually laid into a canoe which was then set aflame and sent adrift into the ocean.

Zuko had only ever seen a Water Tribe funeral twice, and the headstones from both lay somewhere in the field he and Katara stood in. Zuko's heart dropped when he realized he did not know the way to the headstone. Katara slid between the rocks, knowing the path by heart.

They found what they were looking for, a still hard-edged block of stone, free of the mildew and stains of weather that many of the other older stones bore.

"It's been quite a while," Zuko whispered, staring at the date carved into the stone.

"Too long. He left too early," Katara said.

"He died a fighter, just how he would've wanted it."

Katara chuckled. "I think he'd be annoyed if he had to grow old with us."

"Creaky bones. Bad backs. No, Sokka wouldn't have liked any of it."

The two stood silent, the wind whipping by the only voice you could hear. The silence weighed on his old bones. Unlike Iroh's room, the sight of his friend's memorial had had little time to get used to. It seemed to ooze with tiredness and grief, which wasn't very Sokka-like at all - it'd probably be more true to life if they'd chiseled a pun as his epitaph. The thought almost made him laugh.

 _There's that smile, you old geezer,_ he could almost hear him say.

The smile fell away, and the weariness sank back into his bones. Zuko's eyes trailed - from the stone, to the city, then out to the bay where the rest of the world lived on.

So much had changed since he'd been here last, and even more since when he'd been here first. Katara's snowy white hair. The Avatar being trained deep in the tundra. The headstone that stood where his friend should have been.

Most days, he wished he could change too, so he could fit into this new, changed world. But there were some moments where he couldn't help but wish for all of it to change back.

* * *

"Jasmine. Your favourite."

Katara came into the room, two cups of tea in her hands. Zuko sat at the little dining table in Katara's house, cross legged on the blue down cushion below him. Outside, the wind howled, turning the window's view almost to pure white. She sat across from him and set one of the cups on the table.

"If the radio's right, this storm won't let up for at least three days. There might be a few clear patches, but not enough time to do anything," she said, "Unless… we wait it out."

The storm had come by surprise. It was a tragedy that he'd have to cut his trip to the south short, but he couldn't afford to wait it out. "I can't. I need to go tomorrow or…"

"Or you won't make it in time," she finished his sentence for him. "The winds should be calm for awhile at midday tomorrow. You can fly out then."

Zuko took a sip from his tea cup. "You know why I'm making this trip in the first place, don't you?"

"Of course I do. It took you long enough to start. I was starting to doubt that you'd ever do it."

"You doubt my honor?"

"Oh no, of course not," she chuckled.

Zuko took a long draw from his cup. "You know why it took so long to start. The world was a mess. I couldn't leave so soon after it happened."

"14 years though," Katara mused, "For what it's worth, you did need a break. Your chi lines this morning? Like a tangled fishnet. Covered in sea salt."

"I can't say I wasn't expecting that."

The two smiled, and sat back in silence. So much had changed in their lives, but he was happy he could still spend a quiet moment sipping tea with one of his best friends.

"Anything you need before you leave tomorrow, Zuko?" Katara asked.

He thought for a moment. "Well… I was wondering, do you remember those fruit pies Aang used to make?"

"Who do you think I am? His wife?" Katara laughed, "Of course I remember."

"Do you think you could show me how to make them?"

"You want to bake? In the middle of the night?"

Zuko shrugged, "You asked."

"I guess we've done wilder things in our lives. Fine then. But you have to help!" And with that, she dragged him into the kitchen before he could say no.

Kya was woken up in the dead of night to find two war heroes covered in flour, trying to salvage the husk of a burnt pastry and laughing all the while. It goes without saying that she joined them for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has the only direct breach of canon I know. Zuko says in LOK that he only met Korra as a very young girl, and here he meets her at 14, which isn't that young, but c'mon. I couldn't have Zuko go to the south without meeting with his reincarnated buddy.
> 
> Also, I've finally made a tumbloid ([@achievement-bender](https://achievement-bender.tumblr.com/)) because that's what all the cool kids are doing these days. I reblog stuff. I try to be funny. I don't know how tags work. But I do plan on posting some more shortform writing there, and I do want to start editing some videos. So if you got a tumblr, come say hi!


	6. Open Cliffside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends. Thank you for all the support, on this story and any that came before, I wouldn't be the writer I am today without it. This story's been a journey to write, and I'm happy it managed to move even a few of you.
> 
> And if you're sad after reading this chapter… know that this is a happy ending, even if it doesn't end happily. You can't stop time and you can't stop death, but you can always make the best of the time you have left :) Take care, whoever you are, and may we cross paths again one day.
> 
> -Mano :D  
> (And here's my [tumblr](https://achievement-bender.tumblr.com/), if you want to cross paths sooner)

 

Zuko and Druk stood at the foot of the Southern mountain range. Carved into the rock, barely a chip in the towering mass of stone, was the beginning of a steep and narrow staircase. The path to the Southern Air Temple was long and arduous. It hadn't existed until not too long ago, when Aang had decided the Air Acolytes should take up residence there, and have some way to get up other than near extinct sky bison. He'd walked it once, when he was younger and had more company. He knew he had to be here at the crack of dawn if he wanted any chance of making it before nightfall.

_Of course,_ his weary legs seemed to say,  _You could always jump on Druk and be there without any of this nonsense._

But Zuko told his legs to shut up and for Druk to stop whining, because he wasn't about to cheap out on this, of all things. It was the last day of his vacation, after all.

_Well,_ Zuko thought, laying his foot on the first step,  _I'm not getting any younger._

He felt fit and sturdy enough - a result of Katara's water healing as well as weeks adjusting to the road. The wind swept by, cool and gentle, keeping his sweat from sticking on his brow. With the sun beating down, he might have given up and hailed Druk if it hadn't been for the breeze.

Hours ticked away. He paused ever half hour or so to give himself breath. On one break, he sat at the foot of a gnarled oak, its roots under his hands, where the path had plateaued into a small cliffside. He was high enough up to see ocean on three sides. If he'd had Toph's seismic sense, or Aang's touch with the spirits, perhaps he'd be able to see through the roots at his hands and reach out south over the rolling waves to see what Katara was up to on this day. Or north, to Toph herself, and perhaps even far enough to Izumi, too.

Katara surely, despite being snowed in, would be preparing her own tribute for this day. Whether Toph would as well, he didn't know. She'd never been one to hold onto things for too long. Perhaps she was watching him now. Given the date and where he was, she must have realized why he was climbing up this mountain in the first place. Or why he'd started this journey altogether.

Zuko gazed out through the treetops, where the sun peeked through, just shy of its zenith.

14 years ago, on this day, he'd landed in Republic City as the sun began to set. Druk had collapsed on the ground of Air Temple Island and writhed, having flown harder and longer than he'd ever flown before. On the evening of the day prior, Zuko had received a message about the Avatar's deteriorating health. He'd made it to Aang's bedside mere minutes before the sun passed the horizon, and his friend passed with it.

Today, under the gaze of the same sun, Zuko walked over the final ridge of the mountain range and onto the terrace of the Southern Air Temple. Its inhabitants began hovering towards him.

"I'm sorry to come unannounced," he said to them, "But I think I'm long overdue for a visit."

Hospitable as ever, the Air Acolytes gave him a hearty welcome, inviting him to share a meal. Not in any hurry, he joined them for a light lunch of dumplings and sweet buns. The acolytes were pleasant conversationalists, but they too had picked up on the reason he'd come here. They led him on his way right after the table was cleared.

The door leading to the air temple sanctuary was now permanently open, knowing that if it closed only Tenzin could open it again. A curtain hung in the doorway. Zuko slipped through, while the acolytes leading him stayed on the other side.

The statue room stood before him, a huge circular chamber. The eyes of every Avatar that came before gazed out into emptiness.

Every footstep echoed as he made his way to the centre of the room, where the newest addition to the sanctuary stood. It was a little larger than life - the statue towered over him - though it was a good likeness. Just a little more somber than Aang would usually be.

Zuko smiled for the both of them. He brought his hands together in a bow. "It's been too long, old friend."

* * *

Later, after saying his farewells, Zuko flew off on Druk to a nearby mountain which had a perfect view of the air temple.

They settled at the lip of a cliff, Druk curled up around him.

"It's been a long trip," he spoke out to the wind, "If it weren't for all the creaks in my back, I might even say it was worth it."

Druk grumbled at the sound of his voice, rearing up his head curiously.

"Don't worry, I loved every second of it." He patted the beast back down before turning back to the wind. "I'm sorry it took so long to start, though. I meant to go sooner, really, but… there was never the time. And to be honest, a part of me was afraid to ever start. I knew it would be hard. Because of course it would be hard."

It had been of course, and not because of the tiredness that weighed his bones. The tiredness kept him busy. The tiredness was the easiest part.

"It was too easy to be busy. It was too easy to just… forget about everything. All the loss. All the time passing. Once I finally started and all I had to think about was my own two feet in front of me, everything came back. Things I never really had time to think about before. My mother. My wife. Uncle. The fifty years of my life I'll never get back."

He breathed in the mountain air. Oh, how the years had flown by. There was no stopping it, there was no denying it, there was no going back. When you got to his age, 84 and still going, there was only one thing left to decide.

"After these last few weeks… I think… I think it was worth it."

He stood, took out a pack from Druk's saddlebag and turned to the open cliffside.

He said, clearer this time, "It's been worth it. You were right, I did need a break."

From his bag, he took out several incense sticks he'd gotten from Toph, the ones she and Aang had made from the bark of the banyan trees and had used when they meditated years ago. He set them in the rocks, right beside the simple altar Zuko had set. Draped across the ground was an old airbender tapestry that Tenzin had given him when he'd stopped at Republic City - one of his father's favourites. The bison whistle Aang had left in the beach house on Ember Island glistened from where it sat on the cloth. Hanging on the wall of Iroh's room in Ba Sing Se, he'd found the portrait Sokka had made after the comet had passed, a messily scrawled thing Aang had loved. It laid furled besides the whistle. Lying besides that were the fruit pies he'd made at the air temple using Katara's recipe, now cold.

He lit the incense, which cast a glow over Aang's portrait.

"My only regret was that you couldn't have been there too, old friend."

Zuko sat against Druk's neck and laid there as the sticks burned out. The wind blew the scent across the mountain range. They slept on that open cliffside, finally at the end of a long, long journey.

* * *

" _Zuko! It's been too long!"_

_Aang bounded towards the Firelord, wrapping him in an embrace. When they parted, the Avatar led them to sit at an open gazebo in Air Temple Island and hailed for a pot of tea._

" _It has been a while. It's good to see you again," Zuko said, taking a cup from a tray an acolyte had brought, "We don't do this often enough."_

_Aang rolled his eyes. "You're the one who's always busy. Always working, never a break. It's been a full 50 years, and you still don't cut yourself some slack."_

" _53, actually."_

" _That's a long time to be on the throne," Aang said as he held his tea gingerly._

" _I know," Zuko muttered, "I've been thinking of retiring."_

_There was no sound for a moment, then Aang smiled. "You should. You deserve the rest."_

" _I shouldn't. Izumi-"_

" _-will do fine. You raised a smart woman. Besides, the world's settling down right now. This'll be the best time for her."_

" _I don't know. The world's still far from peace..."_

_A hand fell on Zuko's shoulder. "You deserve some peace of your own, Zuko." The Firelord answered nothing, but Aang didn't relent. "Promise me you'll take a break, okay? Once you retire, we'll go on a trip, you and me, like old times! Promise me, old friend?"_

_Aang stretched out a hand and smiled. It was a bitter smile in memory; a naive smile. It was a smile that didn't know that they would never go on that trip together. It was a smile that didn't know that Aang wouldn't live past the year. It was a smile that didn't know that Zuko wouldn't be abdicating for another 14 years._

_Zuko took Aang's hand and mirrored his smile._ " _Alright then. Promise."_


End file.
